Anonymous
by Rendall
Summary: AU/Slash. Everyone has a story, some much worse than others. Logan Mitchell doesn't sleep, he doesn't like to talk, and don't dare try to touch him. When his parents send him away to school, he sees it as a blessing. He makes friends, he falls in love with a stranger or two, he tries things he swore in life he'd never do. Every thing is great, until it's not. Kogan/other pairings
1. Chapter 1

New story. I'm apologizing in advance. I know I have other stories to update, but things get in the way, and you get distracted and yeah. I'm sorry.

* * *

The lights are bright inside the corner diner, they always are. The fluorescents have a way of making the skin seem pale and translucent, almost is if you're at a hospital. Logan likes the corner diner, more so known as the Corner Clock. It's a getaway for him, an escape from everything and everyone, not that he knew too many people besides his parents and the lovely waitress Betty that he's grown to know over the past few years.

He'll miss this place, that's for sure. When he leaves in the morning, or later that day, Logan knows the Corner Clock is the only place he'll miss. Surely he won't miss his home or his stepdad - that bastard - he won't miss his room or his school or his friends. Maybe he'll miss his mom, but that's quite a big maybe. He's hoping New York will do much better for him than Minnesota ever did.

Logan was like a package, something to be sent away to get better use somewhere else. No one wanted him at home, except for maybe his mom. He knew it was all his stepdads doing, shipping Logan off halfway across the country to the East coast. Out of sight, out of mind, Logan was just a burden for the man - a burden that would soon be no more.

When his parents sat down and explained the whole ordeal to him, they made it seem like a vacation, the Palmwoods Academy being a sort of paradise with a view of the New York skyline, centered right on the outskirts of the city that never slept. At first Logan was excited, he couldn't wait to go. Just the infinite amount of possibilities that could happen in a new town, a new city, a new state, a new time zone! It was all he could think about, because soon he'd be gone. That was all until he realized it was just an excuse for his family to get rid of him - which almost made him want to stay home and make them suffer - only staying home wouldn't just suck for them, it'd suck for him too.

That's why Logan had a duffel bag full of clothes, waiting at home on his bed, packed and ready to go. Everything inside checked once, twice, three times by Logan just for the brunette to make sure he had absolutely everything he needed. He didn't want to chance leaving something at home only to have his mom ship it over and his stepfather complain about the cost – not that it should be much of an issue considering the man was forking over a ridiculous sum of money for Logan's new, prestigious prep school. But he guessed that meant he'd have to pay the price to get Logan out of his hair.

To try and detach himself from his thoughts Logan decides to take in the atmosphere of the diner and let it all sink in one last time before he leaves. The jet black cushions on the booths, the electric blue color of the table cloths, and the pristine white of the linoleum; his brown eyes rove over every inch of the place, the large clock on the wall where Logan swears he can hear the second hand tick by, the juke box in the corner, the same songs forever on loop, the men in the back kitchen, watching EPSN on their tiny TV, and the waitress waddling over to Logan now with a pen in her hand and a smile on her face.

"Logan, honey, need a refresher?" The lady, Betty asks, stopping just at the end of his table. Logan looks down to the coffee mug in front of him; he'd forgot it was even there. Swirling his spoon a few times through the dark liquid, he pulls the cup up to his lips, letting the coffee linger on his tongue as he forces the bland taste down. _Bleh_.

"It's a little cold," he mumbles softly, averting his gaze as Betty pours a little more into his cup.

"Darling I will never understand you, why drink coffee when you don't like it?"

Logan shrugs. "My chemistry teacher always said, 'bring book and coffee to class. Don't care if you don't like coffee, do you like chemistry? No, yet you come anyway, so bring coffee too'." Logan chuckles fondly at the memory. "He was such a strange man, wise, but strange. The coffee just sort of became a habit."

Betty rolls her eyes and tightens her apron. "Teachers these days, think they know everything, warping the minds of students. Honey if you don't like coffee, drink something else. Drink tea."

Logan shakes his head. "Tea is for schmucks. I'm a man."

"If you're sure, then you're a man with foul taste." Betty smiles and ruffles Logan's hair, the brunette instantly freezing. Noticing his reaction Betty pulls her hand away quickly. "Sorry, I just forget sometimes."

He struggles with a response as his lips form the words, the sounds at the tip of his tongue. "It's fine, I think it's getting better." Betty knew what Logan meant by 'it'. Logan had been coming to the Corner Clock for so long that he'd gained a confidant in her. He was forever grateful. If it weren't for the kind lady he would have blown his brains out a long time ago.

Betty slides in the booth across the table from Logan, her forehead scrunching together in worry. "You think so?" _No, not really_. Logan nods his head. "Boy I hope so, you can't be afraid all the time."

"Maybe New York will change that."

Howling with laughter Betty throws her head back with a smile. "You're moving from a small town to one of the biggest cities in the world, and you're thinking you'll be safer there, surrounded by people?"

Logan turns his head down, his brown eyes examining the table cloth, suddenly finding the electric blue color fascinating. His fingers fumble with the edge of the dainty material where there's a tear in the corner. "Anywhere is safer than here."

Betty lets out a long sigh, capturing Logan's attention. She changes the subject, for which Logan is thankful. "So when do you leave again?"

His eyes roll over to the clock, the time reading three thirty-seven in the morning. "Flight leaves at seven, but we're leaving the house around five. Peter says its safe to be early, but I think he just wants me gone sooner."

"Doesn't that mean you should be heading home soon?" Logan nods. "I mean before they wake up so they don't realize you're gone." The boy knows his parents know. He doesn't sleep. He hasn't in forever, not since the incidents. His bed is always too cold or too hot, or the creaking and cricking of the furnace always keeps him awake, his eyes locked open throughout the night, every sound sending shocks spiraling up and down his spine. He used to wish the darkness would just swallow him up and take him away from everything, but he'd been getting better the past few weeks. The closer the date came for his departure, the more Logan felt his mind take a break from what happened before and instead thinking about what could be. New York was full of 'what could be.'

"It really doesn't matter if I'm there or not, either way they don't care."

A sad smile plays across Betty's lips. "They care honey, they just don't know how to show it."

Logan scoffs and runs a hand through his hair out of annoyance. "Whatever, I guess I better be heading home." It was time for that conversation to end.

They both get to their feet, Logan waiting as Betty scoots herself out from the booth. She walks him over to door, wishing him well at his new school, hoping he makes friends and learns to live a little. Logan flashes her his famous, lopsided grin and moves in for a hug, all but shocking the poor, tiny woman. "You really are getting better."

Even though the touch makes Logan want to cringe and hide away deep inside his own skin, he lets himself be enveloped in her arms, knowing this is the first and last time it would ever happen. "I really am. Bye Betty."

She notices the lifelessness in his eyes and the way he's trembling when she lets him go. He's really not getting better; he's just putting on a show for her. But she hopes him pretending will soon make him believe it's true, and that he is better and that he's not terrified anymore. "Bye Logan."

The little bell tinkles as Logan exits the diner with his head bent down, watching as the concrete moves underneath his feet, making his way back home.

Once inside the old abode, Logan kicks off his sneakers by the door, leaving his jacket to hang on the rack. He tiptoes up the stairs and down the hall, past his parents' room where he's thankful to hear the sounds of Peter's obnoxious snores. _At least they're still asleep._

In his own bedroom, Logan's eyes cast over the bareness of it all. Except for the lamp resting on his nightstand and the TV in the corner, the room was basically empty. Everything he owned was either in boxes in his closet or snuggly contained in his duffel bag and carry on. It was almost as though Logan didn't exist, and that he didn't live there at all.

Logan pulls back the covers on his bed and sneaks beneath the sheets. With his head lying softly against the pillow he closes his eyes faintly, hoping for at least an hour of rest. The max he'd ever get was three, if he was lucky, but tonight his deadline was an hour, and he couldn't be happier. Yawning he pulls the covers further up his shoulders, sinking into a comfortable silence as he rubs his lips together a few times before letting his mouth fall shut and sleep overtake him.

Its maybe a half hour later when he hears them.

Logan peeks an eye open to look at his watch, sure enough it's around four-thirty. The sky outside is still dark from what he can see through his curtains, but what's outside isn't any part of his interest. Instead it's the sounds of a creaking bed that has his ears perked and his attention alert. He grabs his pillow and slams it over his head, trying and failing to block out the soft moans and heated grunts. He surely wasn't going to miss _this_ once he moved.

It goes on for a while, the moans turning into screams of agonizing pleasure somewhere along the line. Logan doesn't understand why they can't wait until he leaves to fuck; they know he can hear them. Thin walls in a house as small as theirs speak volumes. Every sound reverberates through them, and with Logan's heightened sense he swore he could hear a pin drop downstairs if he tried hard enough. Of course he'd rather listen to a million pins fall rather than his parents get it on.

After about ten minutes Logan is restless in his bed, wishing it would end. He isn't sure what's worse. The fighting, the screaming, the swearing until their faces are red in the face, or the lovely intimate moments such as the times they decide to fuck in the middle of the night. Logan's sure it's the latter, but sometimes the fights get nasty, and that's when he knows to just stay out of the way, out of sight, out of mind.

When they finish Logan silently thanks whatever higher power there may be. The time is four forty-five and Logan is grinning, because he only has just over a half hour left until he says goodbye to his family for the next five months.

* * *

Logan suffers through the car ride, listening to the disc-jockey on the radio drone on about the weather and traffic while his mom turns to face him from the front seat with a wide grin. She tells him about all the things she wants him to do and encourages him to see while out on East Coast. "Remember, your weekends are free for you. You're allowed to leave the campus and go wherever you want." Yes of course, she's always mindful of the rules. "Now Logie just remember to see the city and be a tourist, go on an adventure, have some _fun_." Logan scoffs with a roll of the eyes _as if that's possible_. "Bring me back an '**I heart NY** shirt'."

Even though he doubts she's paying attention to him Logan nods his head at each of her requests, mentally storing her checklist in the back of his mind. It was the least he could do for his mom because she was just so excited for him. He would be able to do something she never had the chance to do. In essence, she is temporarily living vicariously through him. "I will Mom, I will." Logan says as she tapers off, her long list of things to do finally ending on some random note, Logan unable to remember what she last said.

The rest of the car trip she gushes on and on about how much she's going to miss her baby boy. This is the longest Logan would ever be away from home, away from her. A tear shines in the corners of her eyes and Logan knows she's being sincere. Like he mentioned before, if he missed anything it'd be his mom. "Mom, stop we're here." Logan mumbles, the blubbering continuing up until they reached the front entrance of the airport where drop offs and pickups are located.

Everyone steps out of the car, Peter being kind enough to grab Logan's bag from the trunk. He doesn't even shove it into Logan's awaiting arms like the boy expects, he's even being cordial. "We'll miss you," Peter says with a bit of sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Logan glances at his stepdad and sees the smile on his face, making Logan want to cringe and step out of the man's line of vision. Instead Logan gives him a hard glare, his fists curled at his side all before his mom swoops him into a hug, catching him off guard.

"Mom," Logan whines, hoping he's coming across as embarrassed rather than a little shaken up. He collects his bearings and gives his mom a dimpled grin. Her smile is sad and her cheeks are tearstained.

"You're not even going to let me hug you goodbye?" Mrs. Mitchell sniffles, her arms falling bitterly to her sides in protest.

Logan tries to remember the last time he hugged his mother, or anyone for that matter, excluding Betty from earlier that morning. He racks his brain, thinking and thinking until the organ actually hurts. He can't remember. Logan looks at her face, and more closely her eyes, the deep brown just the same as his own, and he remembers when it was just the two of them against the world, back when they didn't need Peter or his dad… Feeling a slight twinge of remorse, he steps forward and pulls his mom into an embrace. Once he's wrapped in her arms she whispers in his ear, "I'm sorry for everything, but I already miss you."

"You too, Mom."

"I love you Logie."

"Mmhm." Logan mumbles into her shoulder, squeezing her a bit tighter before letting go. "Pe-" the glower Logan receives burns his retinas. "…dad." He nods his head in his stepfather's direction.

"Logan…what no hug for your big man?" the brunette takes a step back, with his duffel strapped around his shoulder, plane ticket in his hand. Logan swallows the thick lump in his throat, stepping forward with shaky breaths and jittering knees. Peter engulfs him in a hug, suffocating Logan to his chest while the boy holds his breath. He doesn't move, he just waits for it to be over, until he can finally get away. "That's my boy."

Peter lets Logan go, the boy finally taking a much needed breath. He stumbles out of his hold awkwardly and waves one last time at his parents.

Once he starts walking Logan doesn't turn back to catch their gaze, he just keeps on going, following his feet in the direction they're headed. He hears his mom's voice ringing in his ears, reminding him that she loves him just one last time. Peter even says it too, but Logan ignores that completely, he knows it's only a charade for his mom.

Inside the airport there are families together in line, moms keeping an eye on their children, teenagers on their cell phones, dads talking business. Most schools haven't started yet, it's still just the first week of August, and school is the last thing on most kids' minds. But not for Palmwoods Academy, nope they like to get an early start with vigorous course work, forcing teens heads out from whatever gutter they fell into over the summer.

Logan scrambles into line behind the rest of them, right behind a rather tall blond boy that Logan could only guess was around his age. The blond has headphones covering his ears, more than likely dead to the world. He looks exhausted, with the rolling suitcase at his side, his phone tucked into his pocket. With him are - Logan guessing again - a younger sister and his mom. The brunette just assumes considering the conversation passing between the two, not that he was eavesdropping. Nope not at all.

When the blond and his family reach the counter, Logan pays attention to the way the blond sighs as he shuts off his music, letting his headphones hang from around his neck. He hands his plane ticket to the TSA and Logan notices he's the only one with a boarding pass, or a bag for that matter. At least Logan wasn't the only one flying solo and that realization put a grin on his face.

The blond and his family finish quickly at the counter, leaving Logan to pass through even faster. The TSA weighs his luggage and sends him on his way, eyeing Logan's carry on as he leaves. Right outside the security area Logan catches back up with the blond, just catching the last few words exchanged between him and his mom. He learns the blond's name, Kendall, and even learns they have the same flight. What are the chances of that?

Still shadowing the blond - now Kendall - Logan follows him through the security gates and out into the terminal. There are fast food stations about every other shop down the long hall leading to the gates. He watches the blond strut into a cafe, Logan deciding quick that it wouldn't hurt to follow, or at least that's what he thought.

"Can I help you?" Kendall rounds on Logan, letting his headphones fall back around his neck while glaring down at him and Logan gasps. Those eyes, he knows those eyes; such a vivid green laced with malice as they burn holes into Logan's flesh. A shudder involuntarily coils down his spine.

"_May_ I help you." Logan corrects him, the blond only getting more annoyed.

"Dude, I asked you first." Kendall raises his eyebrows and looks off to the side, distinctly muttering, "_weirdo,_" under his breath.

"No," Logan shakes his head and sighs. "You said can I help you, when the correct way to ask is _may_ I help you. I was just fixing you."

"Yeah, well find someone else to fix, what are you a fucking teacher? You sure as hell sound like one." Okay, so maybe Logan doesn't want to get caught up with this Kendall guy. He seems too much of a dick for Logan's liking.

Logan mumbles a small "sorry" and steps back from Kendall, retreating out of the cafe, his eyes set on the bookstore up ahead. Best way to travel is when you're accompanied with nothing but a good book.

He scans the shelves two, three, maybe even four times until he finds himself facing six different literary works of art. Over the covers, Logan rubs his hand across the printed letters of the titles and the authors' names, feeling the bumps beneath the tips of his fingers, knowing that if he closes his eyes he can still make out what they say as if they were braille. Sighing in content Logan pilfers through the many pages, drowning in the scent of a new book, listening as the spine rustles, crinkles, and cracks open for the first time.

Logan debates for a while, finally choosing something to read and picking up a bag of Swedish Fish on his way to the cashier. There's a small line but Logan doesn't mind. Instead he takes the chance to get a head start, the book clasped firmly in his hand as he opens to the first page.

"Not you again," he hears someone complain from behind him. Resisting the urge to ignore them and continue reading Logan looks up and finds himself face to face with the blond jackass from before.

"I swear I'm not following you."

Kendall smirks, the left corner of his lips shooting up, a deep dimple forming on his cheek as though it were etched into the smooth surface of his skin. "Sure seems like it." Kendall gives Logan a once over, obviously amused with what he sees. "What you got there?"

He doesn't know why he bothers to answer the blond, but Logan does either way. In his hand he holds out the Swedish fish, earning a playful smile from Kendall, and although he enjoys keeping to himself, he rotates the cover of the book for Kendall to see. "One of my favorites." The blond comments, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

Logan nods in agreement, "Dystopian literature at its finest."

Kendall snorts, "You're such a dork. 'Dystopian literature at its finest'." He mocks Logan, rolling his green eyes up to the ceiling and back. "What's your name?"

"Logan." He says, averting his gaze.

"Well," Kendall starts, pausing to capture Logan's attention once more, his long fingers fumbling with the cord of his headphones, which are still draped around his neck. Logan glances back up. "Aren't you going to ask me mine?"

Logan shakes his head. "You're Kendall." The blond quirks an eyebrow, as if he's asking how Logan knows. "I heard you with your family earlier." Logan finishes, realizing just how much of a creep he sounds like. He mumbles a quiet, "sorry."

"Dude you're such a fucking weirdo. Should I be creeped out?" Logan notices he's next in line. He holds up a finger, silently asking Kendall to hold on as he pays for his things. Once he's done he rips open the Swedish fish and falls into step beside the blond as they walk farther down the terminal towards their gate.

"I don't like talking to people, so instead I listen. Sorry for eavesdropping."

"Whatever, it's no big deal." Kendall reaches for his headphones, just about ready to cover his ears back up before he stops. "Wait, how do you not like to talk? I do it all the fucking time, although my friend Carlos, man you can never get him to shut up."

Logan swallows the lump that forms in his throat. Another thing he doesn't like - talking about himself. He shrugs in what he hopes is a rather nonchalant way and speaks. "I don't know, I just don't."

"Well how about-" they've reached their gate, A7 and pause. "Here's my stop." Kendall unslings his carry on from around his shoulders and slumps into a chair, eyebrows perking up in interest when Logan takes the seat beside him.

"Same flight." Logan mutters at Kendall's bewildered expression, watching as his lips turn up just slightly at the corners.

"Okay...now what was I about to say?" Kendall taps his chin in thought, his headphones once again hanging from his neck forgotten. "Oh yeah, tell me something about yourself."

"Why?"

"I'm just trying to get you to talk, you know it's not always safe being stuck inside your head all day." A look Logan can't quite decipher passes over Kendall's features, if only for a brief moment. If he blinked he would have missed it. "Human interaction _is_ a good thing."

Deciding he'll play along, Logan leans back into the worn out cushions of the chair and gives Kendall his full attention. "What do you want to know?"

"What is a dork such as yourself - who looks like his best friend is his mom - doing all alone in an airport, about to board a plane to New York? I mean, I realize Minnesota is about as exciting as watching paint dry, but why?"

Logan lets that all sink in, huffing at the comment about his mom. "First off, my mom's not my best friend. And secondly, I could ask you the same question."

Kendall nudges Logan's shoulder with his own. "Yes, but you see I asked you first."

Logan rolls his chocolaty eyes up to the ceiling before landing them back on Kendall's green ones. "There's this school in New York my parents enrolled me in, Palmwoods Academy."

A sigh escapes Kendall's parted lips. "Ahh, the good old Palmwoods, where palming wood is my favorite pastime." Kendall chuckles at the way Logan's eyes turn as wide as saucers. "I go there too, newbie." Kendall nudges Logan again, getting Logan to grin even if the boy's still shocked about the previous statement.

"Oh, is it nice there?"

"It's school, so basically it's a pile of shit, with shitty ass teachers, shitty as dorm rooms, and shitty ass rules." Kendall begins to fumble with his headphones again. "But the kids are pretty rad. The girls, now their chests literally go out to here." Kendall gives Logan a demonstration, holding his hands out and cupping invisible breasts in his palms. "And the guys...well like I said, I like to palm wood." He raises an eyebrow suggestively and Logan's heart just barely skips a beat, but he knows it did.

"So, you're um...into that kind of stuff then." Logan really doesn't know what to say, being so far out of his comfort zone that he wants to sink into the cushions of the chair and disappear.

"What do you mean by 'stuff'?"

"Like sex...and boys...and girls. So you're bi."

Kendall shakes his head, blond bangs sweeping across his forehead and falling right back into place. "I'm not a fan of labels. And duh, who doesn't like sex? It like, makes the world go round or some shit like that."

Logan feels his cheeks heat up, betraying him and his embarrassment. "Right, right. Of course. Everyone loves a good banging."

The blond snorts, like actually snorts. His face scrunches up and he falls back into his own chair laughing so hard Logan's not sure if he can breathe, or if he even is breathing because Kendall's wheezing, gasping for air while he clutches his stomach. Once he calms down and has the chance to catch his breath he opens his mouth to speak, his lips still stretched into a wide smile. "I cannot believe you just said that."

Logan's brow furrows in confusion. He doesn't think he's said anything out of the ordinary. "What'd I say?" He asks all innocently.

"Dude. No one says banging. It's called fucking, and damn does it feel good." Logan quirks an eyebrow because he doesn't know just how good a good fucking feels. "A little anal fisting never hurt anybody." Kendall smiles, laughing at the look of utter horror on Logan's face.

"Oh my, do people really shove their fists up other people's butts?" Another thing, Logan doesn't swear, at least not out loud.

"It's not exactly my area of expertise but yeah, some people really like it up the _ass_." Logan doesn't miss Kendall's emphasis on the word.

"Kendall you are something else." Logan mutters under his breath, looking at the blond in complete awe.

"I'm a one of a kind and freak in the sheets. What can I say?"

The speaker above their heads comes to life, announcing that it's time to board the plane. The interruption keeps Logan from continuing on with their earlier conversation as he sparks up a new subject. "Hey where's your seat?"

Kendall pries his ticket from the pocket of his jeans. "22D, that's window right?"

Logan curses in his mind instead of under his breath. "Darn, I'm 24B."

Kendall throws a sideway glance in the brunette a direction. "You just can't get enough of me can you?"

"No I just get awkward around strangers - people in general, and being confined on aircraft surrounded by a whole crowd of people with no escape for four hours can really put a guy on edge."

"Do you have some like, social phobia or something?"

"No." _Yes._

"Whatever, if the seat beside me is empty its up for grabs."

Logan grins from ear to ear. "Really? Thanks."

"Yup." Kendall pops the p, and with that he places his headphones back over his ears, bopping his head to the beat up until they are seated on the plane. When Logan notices the space beside Kendall remains untaken, he whirrs over and plops right down. He tucks his carry on under the seat ahead of him but keeps his book out in his lap with the Swedish Fish packed away securely in the pouch in front of him. Once the stewardess begins her demonstration of the safety procedures Logan's all ears, not wanting to miss a single bit of information.

He can feel Kendall's eyes on him as he pays close attention to the brochure in front of him, explaining how to securely fasten an oxygen mask or what to do if the plane crashes into a body of water. Just the thought has Logan's stomach somersaulting and his intestines knotting. He feels a bit queasy.

Kendall turns off his iPod for now, not that take off is soon to come and prods Logan with his elbow. "Are you afraid of flying?"

Logan doesn't really have an answer, because he's never been higher than maybe ten feet off the ground. But once the plane starts pulling out of the gate as it heads to the runway, Logan feels his stomach bubble. He grips the armrests, his knuckles stark white against his regularly pale complexion as his fingers tense, his grip like a vice. "N-no." Logan murmurs, finally answering Kendall's question.

"I'm pretty sure you're lying. Have you ever flown before?" Logan shakes his head, deciding its best to keep his mouth closed for the time being. Kendall chuckles before continuing on. "Okay, its best to just close your eyes and breathe. Don't think about the fact that we'll be around 36,000 feet in the air or that we'll be going around 500 mph."

Logan peeks open an eye and glares at the smiling boy beside him. "Not helping!" Logan whines, clutching the arm rests even tighter once the plane reaches the runway, picking up speed. He's thrown back against the seat as the plane accelerates to speeds Logan doesn't think should be humanly possible. _Fuck. Shit. Fuck._ "I'm going to die."

"Really, you're not going to die. Calm your nutsack and close your eyes." Logan does as he says, his eyes clamped shut just before the plane takes off. His throat plummets to his stomach, and he feels like he's free falling every time the plane jerks one way or the other. He tries to remember Kendall's earlier advice as he takes deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth. After a few times he feels his heart rate begin to decrease, yet at the same time his ears feel all fuzzy. "Open your eyes." He hears Kendall, although not like he did before. His smooth voice is distant, but Logan complies as he opens his eyes. "Now look out the window."

Logan leans over Kendall's lanky figure to stare down at the ground that already seems like light years away. Houses are the size of legos and cars flying by on the highways look like ants. The sight takes his breath away, or at least he thought it did until he looked straight ahead into the rustic blue skyline, passing by clouds as if they were giant clumps of cotton candy that Logan can touch and feel beneath his fingertips. "Wow."

"Pretty spectacular, right?"

Logan smiles with deep dimples on either cheek, the right side of his lips curling up just a tad more than his left. "It's amazing."

"So you're not afraid anymore." Kendall says it as if it's a statement, not a question.

The brunette shakes his head. His stomach may feel a little queasy, but he just shrugs away the feeling because he's actually flying. "Nah, I think I'm good."

Kendall nods. "Good." He returns to his iPod, pulling back out the device and turning it on. Logan remembers the book in his lap and pulls it out, opening up to chapter one, page two, ready to see how the story unfolds (even if he has read it one too many times).

Maybe twenty minutes pass, more or less before Logan feels Kendall tap tapping away on his shoulder. Finding the will power to detach his attention from the words that litter the page he pulls away and glances to his right. "Yeah?"

Kendall gives him a soft smile, his green eyes alight with innocence. "_May_ I?"

Logan scrunches his eyebrows together, yet grins because Kendall remembers. "Do what?"

Rolling his eyes exasperatedly Kendall moves to lean his head on Logan's shoulder. Logan shudders at the touch, the hairs at the top of Kendall's head tickling Logan's cheek and the skin beneath his chin. "Much better." Kendall utters, barely loud enough for a whisper, nuzzling just a little bit closer into the brunette and letting his eyes droop closed.

"Alright," Logan says under his breath, turning back to his book and getting lost in the adventure once again.

Logan loves the way he can indulge himself in a good book. The words gracefully paint a picture inside his mind worth so much more than a thousand words, maybe even a million. The detail is precise so precise that Logan can imagine himself bound between the pages, as if he were a bystander watching the plot unfold before his eyes. A bomb, a hand grenade, even an asteroid could strike the surface of the earth and Logan still would pay no mind to whatever's happening in his surroundings. It's a great escape from reality without really leaving.

It's not until the stewardess jabs him the arm that he pulls away, slightly dazed. Blinking rapidly a few times, Logan glances up into the fake smile of the woman carting around a beverage tray. "Would you like anything to drink?"

Logan scratches his chin. His throat is a little scratchy, realizing just how thirsty and dehydrated he feels, but he doesn't want to move, for fear of waking the sleeping blond that rested on his shoulder. "I'm okay." Logan smiles, his voice quiet. "Thanks though." The stewardess nods and continues on down the aisle.

Before returning to his story Logan looks to his right. He takes in the plump, parted lips like tulips, the curved, protruding nose, the soft glow of his pale cheeks, and the long, thick eyelashes. Kendall's a completely different person as he sleeps. He's not obscene or cocky; but quiet and peacefully. Silent breaths escape his lips and his eyes twitch every now and then but never open. Logan knows he's dreaming, and he wonders what about. Smiling to himself he lets Kendall continue with his gentle slumber while Logan jumps back into the pages as if he never left.

They stay like this for a while, up until the turbulence racks the plane with full force. Logan jerks in his seat, letting the book fall as he holds for dear life on the arm rests. Kendall awakens next to him, a bit foggy as he rubs his eyes while they adjust to the brightness streaming in through the window. Kendall pulls the cover down. "What's going oooonnnnnn?" He yawns, running a hand through his tousled hair and stopping to scratch the back of his neck.

The pilot sounds, informing the passengers of the slight turbulence. "_Slight_?" Logan whines, fear gripping his entire body, his muscles locked into a paralysis. "Imgonnadie. Imgonnadie. Imgonnadie." He whispers underneath his breath.

"You're not going to die, my god." Kendall reaches for his hand on the armrest between them in an attempt to pry Logan's fingers free. It does the trick though, as soon as he even so much as touches Logan the boy jerks away from him, like Kendall's a disease or something.

"Don't touch me." Logan mumbles. "Please."

Kendall gives him a bewildered look as he rolls his eyes. "So weird." He mumbles. "Whatever I gotta take a piss." His fingers move to his seatbelt, Logan watching the movement with frightened eyes.

"Dude what are you doing? The fasten seatbelt light is on!"

"Damn you really need to relax. And its fine calm down, natures calling, actually she's screaming." Kendall stands up from his seat and makes an easy attempt of climbing over Logan into the aisle. He heads straight for the bathroom without the stewardess warning him of the seatbelt sign. Logan takes a deep breath once Kendall's gone.

Once Kendall returns Logan is more or less back to normal, grinning widely while Kendall stands in the aisle way, arms crossed over his chest. "That's my seat."

Logan pouts, his brown eyes wide as saucers as he looks up at Kendall. "Come on I've never been on a plane before. I want to enjoy the scenery."

"What's there to enjoy when I'm sitting right next to you?" Kendall smirks playfully as he raises a suggestive eyebrow.

"Yeah, no. And I'm staying put."

"Whatever," Kendall sighs as he takes Logan's old place. He reaches for his iPod in the pouch ahead of Logan, right where he left it before he went to the bathroom. Kendall puts in his headphones and leans his head back against the chair. Not even two minutes later he's complaining. "I'm bored."

He stares at Logan blankly as if he's waiting for the brunette to make a suggestion. "Don't ask me," Logan shrugs finding his own iPod deep inside his carry on and turning it on.

"Let's play a game, I have cards." Kendall pulls a deck out of his own bag and pulls down the tray, already shuffling before Logan even has the chance to protest. "You play poker?"

"I did a little bit of five card poker when I was a kid."

"That's child's play. It's time you learn Texas hold 'em style."

"Okay..." Logan pulls down the tray in front of him as well while Kendall deals out the cards, already explaining the ways of the game and all the rules. By the time the pilot announces they're landing, Logan's won more times than Kendall.

The arrival goes much more smoothly for Logan, only jumping slightly when the plane touches down. He waits impatiently for their time to get off, loving the chance he gets to stretch his legs when he follows Kendall down to the baggage claim. They exchange a few words here and there, but nothing much and as soon as they have their luggage in hand they head out to the street.

"So should we call for a cab or-"

"TAXI!" Kendall shouts out, placing his thumb and forefinger between his lips and letting go a wolf whistle. Before Logan knows it a yellow cab stops in front of them, the driver eager to take their bags. "519 Brooklyn Avenue." Kendall tells the driver once they're seated in back. Logan's not paying much attention. Instead his book is back out, displayed across his lap as he reads.

"You know you're missing the sights," Kendall mumbles.

"They'll still be there tomorrow."

"And so will your book. How about you learn to appreciate your surroundings?"

Logan shakes his head. "I'm almost done okay?"

"Have you even read that book before?" Kendall asks, grabbing Logan's full attention for the first time since they entered the cab.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because maybe if you paid more attention you'd learn a thing or two." Kendall yanks the book from Logan's hands and flips back through the pages. His tongue pokes out of the corners of his lips, he's completely concentrated on whatever he's doing. "Here it is," he clears his voice. "_'Stuff your eyes with wonder, he said, live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories._'" Kendall hands the book back to Logan and points to the quote. "Ray Bradbury is a genius."

Logan's at a loss for words. Without any retaliation he snaps the book shut and turns to look out the window just as the cabbie announces, "We're here."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: So first off I'd like to say thanks for the feedback on the first chapter, I was pleasantly surprised, YOU ALL ARE TOO SWEET. Secondly, I know I'm going to regret updating this without having part of the next chapter written, so bear with me if it takes a while for an update (yes I am still working on my kames stories but right now they are being dunder heads - sorry). Minor Lomille I guess you could say here. Sorry if that's not your cup of tea but I have my reasons. Enjoy

* * *

Logan barely notices when the cab comes to a halt at the curb. Kendall's quicker than him, as he opens the door, Logan fast to follow him out. The cabbie fetches their bags from the trunk as they stand there side by side, Logan taking the time to 'appreciate his surroundings'.

The Palmwoods Academy looks just like any other building - from the front Logan can barely tell it's a school. "So, where do we stay?" Logan asks. "Where are the dormitories?"

Kendall chuckles. "You're still such a dork. And there are other buildings in the back. It's like a mini campus - like the shit you'd find at a college."

Logan nods his head, feeling stupid. "Oh."

"Well," Kendall drapes a long, lanky arm over Logan's shoulders, the brunette flinching at the contact and Kendall notices. "Welcome to hell. Shall we?" Kendall drops his arm and leads the way, his legs much longer than Logan's, taking longer strides than the small brunette.

"Where are we going?" Logan asks, struggling to keep up with him.

"Orientation. They hold it on the auditorium every year. It's always the same shit. Repeating the rules and the expectations the faculty has for the students and how we are a prestigious school and blah blah blah. It's pointless really, no one ever pays any attention." _Maybe it's you who doesn't pay attention_. "Whatever though. You can hang with me and the buds. They might try and get under your skin a little, just a warning."

Logan outwardly groans. "But, Kendall I'm not good at talking to people. I already told you that."

"Well, now you can get some practice. Now Carlos, he'll ask you anything and everything about you. Just shrug him off if he starts to annoy you, that's what I do. James, well he's very self-indulged. You'll be lucky if he notices you. If he does, be ready for some hell, especially since you're with me."

"Why?"

"He gets a little jealous when he isn't given special attention." Kendall licks his lips and smirks, Logan catching the sparkle in his eyes.

"Special attention?"

Kendall stops and turns to Logan. "Let's just say it was a damn good summer, and leave it at that. Now let's _go_, come on." Kendall grabs hold of Logan's forearm and all but drags him along beside him.

Logan attempts to shake him off, prying his arm free. "Hey Kendall?" Logan's voice is quieter, weaker, and he can feel his vocal cords quivering - he just hopes the blond doesn't notice.

"Yeah?"

"Can you stop..." Logan bows his head, finding his feet suddenly very interesting. "Just stop touching me okay. It bothers me."

Kendall's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "It's not because of what I said earlier right? I mean just because I like guys too, doesn't mean I hit on anything that walks. No offense dude but you're not my type. Dorks don't suit me very well, you could never give me what I need."

"No. No no no that's totally not what I meant. I just can't stand being touched." Logan's knees shake but he tries to hide it. He wasn't getting better at all, if anything he was getting worse. Much, much worse.

"Whatever dude, you just might want that to be the first thing you tell Carlos. He's a bit hands on."

"Ok. Kendall what if they don't like me?"

Kendall scoffs. "They won't. You're a total dweeb."

They come to a stop at a door labeled auditorium and Kendall pushes their way in. The room is huge, the chattering of the other students reverberating off the walls and penetrating Logan's eardrums as if everyone's voice was magnified times ten. "It's loud."

"We're not staying down here." Kendall places a finger to his lips and motions for Logan to follow him along the back wall of the theater. In the corner there's another door with stairs just beyond them. In the dark they take the steps as fast as they can while carting around their baggage.

"They should assign us our rooms first." Logan huffs once they reach the top landing. "Where are we even going?"

"Where all the cool kids go." After winding down a short hallway, Logan finds himself entering a sound booth that looks over the entire auditorium. "Hey assholes." Kendall greets the other two guys who turn back when they hear the blond's voice.

"Oh it's just you," one guy smirks, getting out of his chair and slapping hands with Kendall, the other boy quick to do the same.

The first guy is tall - even taller than Kendall with shaggy, chestnut colored hair and sharp angular features. Logan won't even deny it. The guy's drop dead gorgeous. "Who's the guy?" The beautiful boy gives Logan a once over, making him feel self-conscious; he finds his shoes fascinating once again.

"Oh shit, um...dude what's your name again?" Kendall asks Logan out of the corner of his mouth.

"Logan, my name's Logan."

"Yeah, I knew that." Kendall points to tall, dark, and handsome. "This is James, and the short one's Carlos." Logan waves rather awkwardly, unsure of what to do. They don't look like the handshake types. "This is Logan. He doesn't like to talk. He doesn't like to be touched. I met him on the plane."

James ignores Logan's existence. "Cool. So how've you been blondie?" James pulls Kendall away into the corner of the booth, the two exchanging whispers while Carlos rounds on Logan, stealing the brunette's attention.

"You look funny." It certainly wasn't the first thing Logan expected to hear from the boy's lips. He can feel Carlos' gaze trail its way up and down his body as if he's an exhibit at a museum for him to stare at and scrutinize. He expects the boy to comment on something, anything he can find wrong with Logan. But Carlos surprises him. "DUDE ARE THOSE SWEDISH FISH? Gimme!"

Carlos reaches out unexpectedly, shoving his hand into the netted pocket of his carry on as he extracts the candy. He pops a red little fish into his mouth and makes this noise that Logan doesn't find appropriate under the circumstances. "Fuck yes. You're my god right now. I could hug you." Carlos eats another. "Oh fuck it." He flings himself at Logan, the brunette's entire body going rigid as if his bones were laced with cement. His heart beats erratically and inside he's screaming.

"Carlos. Carlos give him some space." Kendall pulls the Latino off of Logan. Over Kendall's shoulder Logan sees James glaring bullets into his head, as if it's his fault Kendall got distracted. "I tried warning you." The blond shrugs before leaving Logan and turning back to James. He didn't even ask if he was okay.

"The guy's a total freak Kendall, why the fuck did you bring him with you?"

The blond chuckled. "I know, he's totally weird." Kendall pauses. "But he just, he looked like needed someone."

Logan can hear the groan James emits. "I know that look Kendall. Don't turn him into another one of your fucking projects. Remember what happened last time?"

Whatever happened last time, Kendall remembers. Logan reads it in his eyes and the way they suddenly change. His pupils are blown wide, barely any green visible in the midst of charcoal. Kendall fists the front of James shirt in his hands and pushes him roughly up against the wall, the impact echoing along the walls of the minuscule room. "Don't fucking talk about that."

Taken aback by Kendall's aggressiveness, Logan takes a tentative step back. His voice dropped a few octaves and his words came out more like a growl than anything else. And his eyes and how they turned black within a matter of seconds. It's all just a little too familiar for Logan, and that scares the shit out of him.

Pulling Logan from his reverie, a sound emanates from below them while Carlos controls the spotlight that hits the stage. "Here we go again." Kendall rolls his eyes and settles himself down comfortably in a chair. "Wake me up when it's over will ya?"

Carlos just nods, keeping the light trained on the headmaster Griffin while he speaks. Logan tries to pay attention, he really does but the man onstage seems a little unwound at the seams, as if he's not all there. And another thing, the man is made of rules, so many Logan can't keep count, but he tries. He's not much of a rule breaker.

"So is this your job? All this stuff?"

Carlos nods, knowing Logan's question is aimed for him. "I'm big into theatrics, but the drama department thinks I'm a ticking time bomb. I tend to run into things a lot."

"Do you not watch where you're going or-"

Carlos smirks. "It's a bit of that, mixed with a terrible case of ADHD. Plus I always seem a little out of it. Whatever wave length your brain runs on, I'm either ten steps ahead or ten steps behind. I make up the rules as I go along."

"Okay...but that still doesn't explain how you landed this job."

James speaks up from the corner, where he has his chair balanced on its hind legs as he rests his head against the wall, popping a piece of gum in his mouth. "It's a conspiracy, really. The three of us all have jobs on campus, most likely as a way for Griffin to keep his eye on us."

"Why would he do that?"

The pretty boy smiles, a faint whistle pushing its way past his lips as he shakes the chestnut hair from his eyes. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Carlos laughs and Logan doesn't push his luck. He seals his lips and does what he does best, he shuts up.

What feels like days later the orientation is over, Griffin finally shutting up and excusing the student body. Logan stands from his chair, wincing at his foot that fell asleep. Kendall's conked out in his own chair, at least until James slaps him across the face for a pretty rude awakening in Logan's opinion. Carlos turns off the spotlight and eats more of the Swedish fish he stole. The blond rubs his stinging cheek. "OW."

"Get up we have shit to do."

"What's so important that you have to slap me awake? I was having a good dream and you just ruined it."

"Sucks. Now let's go."

Logan pipes up. "Where are we going?"

James grits his teeth, pointing between him and Logan. "_We_ aren't going anywhere." He grabs Kendall's wrist with one hand and Carlos with the other. "_We_ are. Later." The blond gives Logan an apologetic smile before he's dragged out of the room by his collar, his suitcase wheels squeaking along behind him.

Logan has a feeling he won't be seeing them any time soon.

Logan grabs his bag from the door and decides it's best to leave too. He wants to find his room and maybe take a nap - if he can even get himself to fall asleep.

Deep inside his carry on he has a map of the campus stashed. Once he's out of the auditorium and back in the hall he pulls it out, brown eyes scanning the paper for any sign of the dorms. Logan knows his room number by heart, and the building name he's supposed to stay in, but he just can't seem to find it on the map. He curses himself for not learning it before.

"Hey, are you lost?" A girl with a cherry red smile and bouncing chocolate curls walks up to Logan with a bounce in her step. He blushes; he doesn't like asking for help.

"Um, actually I am." He sucks in a breath and bites his lip. "I'm looking for Harper Hall? I'm in room 2J."

"That's the floor before mine!" Logan gives her a shocked expression. _Boys and girls stay in the same building?_ "The girls and boys dorms alternate between floors. Come on I'll show you the way." She reaches for his hand, Logan making a quick move to shove it deep in the confines of his pocket. The girl ignores Logan's reaction and begins walking ahead of him. She turns back to look over her shoulder at him. "I'm Camille."

"Logan." He smiles, giving her a nod and following her down the hall until they reach the back doors of the main building.

The campus is gorgeous. Cobblestone paths wind their way between buildings, benches here and there with a few hammocks. The grass is freshly mown, the shrubs recently pruned, the flowers are alive, reaching up towards the sun. "It's really nice here." Logan notices all the little things, thinking about how Kendall would be proud of him as he took the time to enjoy his surroundings.

Camille giggles. "Just wait until November hits. The staff winds the trees and lamp posts with Christmas lights. And when it snows, the sight takes your breath away."

Logan exhales longingly. "That sounds amazing. So where's Harper? And what are all these other buildings?"

"Wow I'm a terrible guide. That building to the left, that's the Math, Science, and Engineering Hall. Next to it is the English/Arts building, and behind that is the mess hall slash activities center. Straight ahead are the freshman and sophomore dorms, and to your right are the junior and senior dorms. It's not too hard to figure out."

It seems easy enough to remember for Logan, nodding his head as Camille explains to him all the clubs he could join. She mentions how she loves acting and pretending to be something she isn't. She goes on and on and on and Logan smiles, he can hear the passion that lingers with every other word out of her mouth. When she realizes she's babbling she stops to take a breather. "Oh sorry, I'm talking too much aren't I?"

"No, no it's alright." She gives him a look to say he's just being nice; he grins. "Really, it is. Tell me more."

"Well aren't you sweet?" His skin burns, feeling his cheeks turn to match the color of her heart shaped lips. He shrugs offhandedly as she hurdles into a whole round of stories, about the first time she ever stepped on stage and felt the rush of belonging somewhere for once in her life. Logan envies her. She's strong on her feet, he can already tell Camille's not afraid to take a few hits in order to reach the top, to become the best. In comparison to her he's the exact opposite. She wants to feel the beam of the spotlight linger on her skin, when all he wants to do is shrink so far deep in the shadows that he's nothing but a memory to those he's come to know.

There are two types of people in this world; those who _will _and those who _won't_. Logan marks the definition of the later.

Together Logan and Camille clamber up the steps of Harper hall and into the air conditioned lounge room. "2J you said?" Logan nods. "Stairs or elevator?"

"Doesn't matter to me." Camille leads the way to the elevator doors. In the confined space Logan slips into the corner, counting down the seconds that tick by as the elevator steadily rises, up until the ding, notifying them of their arrival. Upon reaching his door they stop. "Thanks."

"No problem, do you need help setting things up at all?" She wears a bright, confident smile, and Logan knows she doesn't want to leave. But Logan is Logan and he wants to be alone.

"I think I can take it from here, it was nice to meet you though."

"Same to you." She sways a bit on the soles of her feet. "I'll just be one floor up if you need me."

"Okay." He reaches out a hand and swings his door open, sticking out his foot to help keep it from shutting on him as the walks in. It's desolate and quaint, with bare white walls and a single bed facing the east and a desk leaning against the opposite wall. That's about all there is besides a northern window, overlooking the quad. It's a nice view, and Logan smiles.

At least Logan is thankful for one thing. His stepdad requested he get a room to himself.

He makes do with his suitcase, hanging up the clothes he brought in the closet and dumping his shoes by the door. Logan puts his books and laptop on the desk, makes his bed with the sheets he packed along, and lies down.

And he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

He's not sure how long he lays there, hands tucked beneath his head as he stares up at the ceiling with a blank expression. He would close his eyes, soft breaths escaping his lips, but his state of consciousness never slips. He can still feel the reality of it all, of the new place, the new room, the new bed. But he doesn't feel any safer than he did before. His mind still adamantly refuses to shut the hell up.

Sooner or later he nods off, for how long he's not sure, he just knows it's not long enough. It's never long enough. He checks his watch and it's around 5 in the afternoon. Logan knows he should probably get up and go get himself some food but he doesn't budge. Instead he just lays there for what feels like hours. He doesn't move, except for the steady rise and fall of his chest and the random twitches he feels in his leg or arm every now and then.

When he finally decides to get up, it's only because his stomach forces him out of bed. It growls at him, begging to be catered to. Fetching his wallet and his iPhone from his bag Logan slips back into his shoes and heads out the door.

He keeps his eyes trained on his feet as he maneuvers his way through the building, down the elevator and outside. The sun's lower in the sky, casting long and gangly shadows to the curves of Logan's body as he walks across the quad. He skips over the cracks along the walkway; his steps nimble yet shy as he takes his time reaching the main building, ready to meet the real outside – the actual city of New York.

It's a different city with different people, and as soon as the soles of Logan's shoes hit the pavement he's memorized. He takes in the city, breathes it in to fill the gap in his lungs. Logan lets his ear buds carelessly fall around his neck so he can swallow up the sound of the city slickers, the cabbies, just the movement in general. It's all around him, surrounding him, other people with different lives to live that are so unlike his own.

No matter how far he ventures down the avenue, or around the corner onto the next, there's always something new passing him by, it's movement whizzing in his ears. The city is all about motion, as if there's no such thing as stopping or breaking - the people, the cars, they just keep _moving_.

The blurriness of it all gives Logan a head ache. It's like he's moving too slow to match the pace of the city around him. All he thinks is that he needs to sit and drink a disgusting cup of coffee and drown in this new environment that he's sure to call home someday soon.

One thing about New York, there's a coffee shop on every corner. It's fitting to say the least, in the city that never sleeps caffeine is a must.

Logan enters the nearest one, the shrill ringing of a signal bell announcing his arrival. He takes the few steps that separate him from the front counter and gives the barista a shy smile. She asks what he wants, his answer already on the tip of his tongue. _Coffee - black, no cream_. But something's stopping him. He doesn't want to be the old Logan from Minnesota, he wants to be a new Logan, one who's not afraid to try something new. So when he opens his mouth, it's not his usual reply, instead he asks her what she prefers. When she mentions that her favorite is a caramel macchiato, he tries that, along with a cinnamon roll about the size of his head. And when he pulls out his wallet to pay, he gives her a generous tip.

With his drink in hand Logan situates himself in the corner, in hopes to be excluded from the pack of people who just walked in. He tries the macchiato, letting it linger on his tongue, the taste both equally sweet and bitter yet much better than his regular black cup of joe.

He hears her voice before he sees her, the same girl from earlier bounding up to him, spiral curls bouncing jovially as they frame her face and her glossy red lips equally as sweet as his coffee shining with a smile. "It's Logan, right?"

Logan gives her a shy smile, the corners of his lips forming a deep dimple in his cheek. He nods his head timidly. "Yup. Logan." He replies quietly. He's not the best at forming words with his lips.

"What are you doing here all by yourself?" She asks, stealthily slipping into the chair across the table from him and leaning her chin in the palm of her hand.

"Exploring I guess. Does this city ever stop?"

Camille giggles and it sounds so sugary sweet and genuine that it could give the boy a cavity; he decides that he likes her. "Never has, never will. You get used to it."

"I doubt that'll ever happen."

"Well it won't if you say things like that. You have to keep your mind open to new possibilities."

Logan looks up at her from the corner of his eyes, her face all smiles and sunshine. He wonders if Camille has even one pessimistic bone in her body; just like New York he doubts it. "I'm not an open minded person."

They talk well into the evening, the sky steadily growing darker over the city skyline. Who knows how long they talked - if you could really call it talking, Logan mostly listened. Three macchiatos later and they leave side by side, the friends Camille had entered with long gone and forgotten. "You know with all that caffeine you won't be able to sleep tonight."

_If you only knew_, Logan thinks to himself. "It's no big deal." And it's not, because Logan's used to it.

"You know it's almost curfew," Camille informs, a touch of sadness singeing her voice. Logan doesn't say anything. "We should probably head back." Logan's still about as mute as a mime. "Logan," she says with more force, stopping at the corner of the avenue, reaching out to grab his wrist, holding him back as well.

When she touches him a lead weight of about six thousand tons plummets to his stomach. Her fingers are gentle and soft as they grip his wrist almost delicately. When he turns to face her he knows. He knows she saw the fear in his eyes, despite the reflection of the city lights. When she sees his face she drops her hand from his almost immediately. "You're right," Logan mumbles quickly as if the previous, totally awkward and uncomfortable moment didn't happen. "We should head back."

"Okay," she gives him a soft, dainty smile and Logan attempts a feeble grin.

"Okay."

They say goodnight to each other when Logan reaches his floor, with Camille having to head up just one more. "Goodnight Logan."

Logan turns back to her, his lopsided smile gingerly caressing his lips. "Sweet dreams Camille."

"You too, Mr. Caffeine Addict."

He whispers an "I'll try" as he exits the elevator and walks smugly to his dorm. With his smile still firm on his lips, knowing sleep is far from making his acquaintance; Logan instead aims for the stairs. He's not ready to go back just yet.

He finds himself on the roof, the large expanse of the city beneath him, or what could be beneath him that is, he's only eleven stories up. Logan marvels in the wonderment of it all. It's nearly midnight and he can hear music blaring from either a car or an apartment, he's not really sure which. He can see the shadows of the pedestrians traipsing by on the sidewalk, women in heels and dresses that show off just enough skin but really, it's not enough for the naked eye of a teenage boy. Logan sinks down onto the edge of the building. If he looks down he knows he'll see his feet dangling high above a stretch of cement.

Reaching for his iPhone from his back pocket he inserts his headphones. Logan skips over his own music, well worn out and used, and instead finds solace in the school's radio station. How he does he's not too sure, he just feels like it's what he's supposed to do.

He swings his legs back and forth, the heels of his shoes impacting the brick of the building. When he glances down to the street below him his head spins, his stomach boils and knots and twists, and his blood runs like lightning in his veins.

Logan wonders what it would be like to jump.

The thought leaves as quickly as it came, remorse and grief piling up in his stomach like bile. He'd never put his mom through that again, not after what happened before. So Logan pulls back from the edge and gets to his feet. He walks until he finds the door and rests his head against it, his blood and his heart still thumping in his eardrums. Letting it go he focuses on his iPhone, on the disc jockey's voice, some guy named Anonymous with a tale just like his - he doesn't sleep. And when Anonymous plays the next track, Logan's breath catches in his throat, his heartbeat stutters to a stop, and he just sits there, listening. It's a song he's never heard but he wishes he knew it. He wants to know the song like the back of his hand or know it like words to his favorite movie. He wants to pinpoint all the parts that make his heart skip or his breath hitch or his skin shiver.

Logan makes a note to leave the song and artist's name in his phone, thankful that Anonymous gives it away just after it finishes. He thinks he's ready to leave, up until the next song plays and again, Logan is left in awe because these songs, one after the other, they are all so fucking amazing and different that Logan just wants to listen forever.

An hour later when Anonymous signs off for the night Logan sighs, wishing to hear just one more because he knows if there was more that it would be just as phenomenal as the rest.

Deeming it time to get up, well past the curfew Logan slumps back down the stairs to the second floor, his heart in a much higher place than it'd been in a while.

That is until he hears their voices.

They try to whisper, but their words are just words, in octaves louder, much much louder than normal. One of them is giggling, while another tries to quiet him down, because only they would know the consequences of getting caught.

"Dude, shut the fuck up." The voice is tight and annoyed, but Logan can't seem to match the voice to a face he's only ever met once.

"You…y-you guys are su_uuuch_ great friends. I mean, I love you guys. So much. So much love guys. In this big ole heart. It's all for you." Logan knows _that _voice. He pictures blond tousled hair, deep curving lips, and green eyes as deep as the sea.

The next voice to speak, same as the one before is beyond aggravated at this point. "Knight just shut up. We're almost to your room." Logan can only picture the guy is rolling his eyes. He wants to say it's James but he's not positive and for all he knows the guy hates him. Logan slips back, deep in the confines of the shadows in the hall, hoping to be unseen and unheard of by the trio.

"Jame_ssssss_,"the blond slurs. "James don't you love me too? I'm hurt. That really hurt. I think I'll just cry." A loud sob echoes throughout the once empty hall.

"Fuck. James look what you did." Logan guesses that's Carlos, the only one of the three yet to speak, even if Logan could barely hear the smaller boy's complaint over Kendall's wails. The blond has a pretty impressive set of lungs to say the least.

"N-n-no one lo-oves me. Not m-m-my mom, not my fuck-cking dad, n-not you guys…"

Logan barely hears a curse and a mumble of words he doesn't know in Spanish. "I hate it when he gets like this."

"Carlos, he always," James huffs, and Logan hears something heavy hit the floor, whatever it is it hits it hard. "Shit, help me pick him up."

"_Owwwwwwww_." Kendall whines from the heap on the floor, his limbs wiry and stringy like noodles as James and Carlos attempt to get him to his feet. Logan takes this moment to step out from the shadows and offers a hand to help.

"Where the hell did you come from?" James yelps.

Logan points the ceiling. "The roof. Do you need some help?"

James scoffs and turns to Carlos who's looking at James. "Thanks but I think we've got it." Logan continues to stand there with his arms crossed around his chest, they don't have it at all. "Could you move, like now?"

Kendall lifts his head from the floor and peers at Logan through the gap between James' legs. "Heyy it's youuouuu!" Kendall tugs on the hem of James' shirt, hard enough for the brunette to sink to his knees.

"What now Kendall?"

The blond tries to whisper from his spot on his floor but it doesn't do much. Logan can hear him from where he stands almost as perfectly as if the blond were next to him whispering in his ear. "What's his name again?"

"Dammit it I don't know. He's your friend or whatever, you should know."

"Shhhhhhh James he's gonna hear you!"

While the two attempt to be subtle on the floor Carlos turns his attention to Logan. "He does know your name, don't feel bad or anything. He's just really, _really_ out of it right now."

Logan nods his head in understanding. "I can tell." He drops his arms from across his chest and shoves his hands deep into his pockets. "And Kendall?" Logan says a little louder, capturing the blond's attention. He cocks his head to the side and grins goofily up at brunette boy. "My name's Logan." He then proceeds to step over Kendall's figure in hall, fumbling with the knob on his door, because like James said, _they didn't need any help._


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I wanted it to be longer, but I stopped it where I did. I have the next chapter planned out, just not written yet. Bear with me for updates, I'm trying. Thanks for reading this, I know it's a little weird but oh well.

* * *

The next day Logan finds himself a companion of sorts in Camille. She tells him more about the school and Broadway and her upcoming audition for Julliard. He joins the conversation when necessary, but usually just finds himself watching the world around them as she speaks.

During lunch they share a bench out on the quad. Camille pushes Logan to open up, but when the farthest she gets is where he came from she gives up. After a break in their conversation, Logan's the first to speak up, coloring the girl shocked. "So we can only leave campus on the weekends?"

Camille snorts just before taking a sip of her water. "No one actually follows that rule, just like the staff doesn't enforce it."

"We can leave whenever we want then?"

"Yes...and no." When she pauses Logan urges her to continue with a confused look and questioning eyebrows. "It all depends on the timing. If you leave when you have a class scheduled, that's a huge no. But if you feel the need to explore in your own time, then no one's going to stop you. Timing is everything, but only when appropriate."

Logan nods to show he understands. "So those guys, right over there," Logan points to them, the same three from last night. Together they lean against the wall of the main building, slightly hidden from view underneath the shade of a tall oak tree. "Let's say they were roaming around the halls at two in the morning. That's okay?"

Camille follows his gaze over to the trio. He can't be completely sure but he swears he heard her curse beneath her breath. "You don't want to tango with them."

Not that Logan couldn't have guessed that from the night before, but he didn't expect her to jump right in and say that. "Why not?"

"They're not good guys… except for Carlos maybe. But he's wound so tightly around James finger that it doesn't make a difference." There's an edge to her voice that is so tangible Logan can almost taste it on his tongue. She's jealous of them, which one he's not sure, but the envy is there, seeping between her words like hot lava, and suddenly Logan's intrigued.

"What did they ever do to you?"

Camille's taken aback, her lips parted in an 'o' as if Logan is suggesting something terrible. Yet under his scrutinizing glare, her skin flushes; cheeks reddening and finger fumbling with the cap on her water. "They didn't do anything, despite the fact that he exists." Logan doesn't miss the _he_ instead of _they_. He doesn't miss the way her lips curl back in a snarl as the simple word falls from her tongue.

Logan's overtaken with concern. "He...he didn't hurt you did he?" Then Logan realizes he doesn't even know which one of the three she's relating to. "Who's he?"

A sigh escaped her soft lips and she puts her lunch away, no longer hungry. "Do we have to talk about this? I mean you don't tell me anything about yourself. Why should I be the only one to open up? A conversation consists of two people, but you hardly put any effort into it."

Logan tenses under her steady gaze of brown that matches his own irises, he's almost completely sure. When he opens his mouth to speak it's barely louder than a whisper. "You're better off not knowing anything about me."

Camille's eyes soften. "You'll never know until you try." At an attempt to comfort him, Camille snakes a cautious arm around his shoulder. He doesn't push her away, or snap at her; instead he leans into the touch, because it's all he has. "You're not like most guys Logan. You're different."

"Yeah, I know," _and I'm sick of it_.

* * *

Logan's in the library, bent over a desk with his eyes scanning the pages of some text book or other. It's been two weeks since the semester started and he's already due with a book report and a test or two. The school wasn't joking when it mentioned it worked its students down to the nitty gritty.

He doesn't hear the footsteps walk up to his table. He doesn't notice the lean figure slide into a chair across from him. Logan's sole focus is on hard bound pages sitting before him as he reads up cells and tissues and their many different functions in the body. He's beginning to hate biology.

A voice clears, a prominent "Ahem" filling the silence and Logan's heart speeds up drastically. He takes his time, lifting his head to meet the source of the interrupter, his breathing leveling out once he realizes it's just Kendall. "Howdy," the blond smirks, casually lounging back in a way that hardly looks comfortable to Logan.

"What do you want?" It comes out as more of a snarl than Logan planned but it works, Kendall's features falling and the cocky smirk leaving his lips.

"Snarky, aren't you?" Logan keeps his mouth shut. "So, you and Camille, huh?"

Her name brings a smile to his face. She's such a sweet girl, so nice and welcoming. Maybe a little deranged around the edges but Logan's learned to ignore that aspect of her personality. "What about her?"

Kendall leans forward, over the table top with his face just inches from Logan's, lips curling at the way the brown eyes widen. "You know what."

Logan forces down a gulp and sits back in his chair, forming some distance between himself and the blond. "No, I don't. Just go away Kendall."

"What, I can't offer you a hand at studying-" Kendall lifts up the text book and his eyebrows knit together as he reads, "AP Biochemistry." He says the name as if it's a disease.

With a sigh Logan rubs a hand over his face. "Do you even know what biochemistry is?"

"No," Kendall chuckles. "But I bet you could teach me."

"As fun as that sounds I really need to study. Please go find someone else to bother."

An unfamiliar expression clouds Kendall's features. "What did I ever do to you?"

Logan answers with a completely different question. "What's my name?"

"Well that's a dumb thing to ask for a smart guy. You're Logan and I'm Kendall. Now that we have that established, what did I do?"

"Never mind," the brunette mumbles, forcing his eyes back down to the page drowning in words and diagrams. Kendall obviously doesn't remember the night in the hall, too drunk for the moment to commit to memory. "I'm surprised you even know what the library is, or where it is for that matter."

"Hey, I know how to appreciate a good book, remember?"

Logan remembers as if it happened that morning but he finds it hard to believe. Kendall's not the guy he met at the airport. Sure, he's an ass, it's a main part of his personality. But he's not a good guy, just like Camille told him, and he trusted Camille, at least he tried to anyway. "Just leave me alone okay? I have a test to study for."

"Maybe I don't want to leave you alone." Logan feels something tap against his foot, before he realizes its Kendall nudging him playfully. "Ever thought about that Mr. Genius?"

Knowing he's not going to get anything done with blond around Logan closes his book with an abandoned sigh and looks up to meet Kendall's steely green gaze. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Nothing, I just like bothering you."

"You're ridiculous, Kendall."

Kendall gives him a mocking smile. "You're ridiculous Kendall."

"Don't do that."

"Don't do that." Kendall even tweaks his voice to match the brunettes as best he can. Logan's already annoyed.

"Stop it."

The blond shakes his head as he mouths "_Stop it_." He cocks his head to the side and gives Logan a puzzling glare. "But if I stop you won't pay attention to me."

"My book is closed, it's been closed. You've had my attention for the last ten minutes what more do you want?"

"There are a lot of things I want, let's talk about what _you _want."

_I want you to leave me alone, _is the first thing that comes to Logan's mind. He purses his lips to keep the words from falling off the tip of his tongue. Instead he totally switches it up, catching both himself and the blond off guard. "Why is this book," Logan extracts it from his bag. Ever since the airport he hasn't let the book leave his side, and he doesn't know why. "...one of your favorites?"

The light in Kendall's eyes dims slightly. "Okay, weird question. It just is, I mean the whole idea of living in a dystopian world, it shows how much worse the universe actually could be, but it's not. We're lucky, compared to the characters in those books. It just makes me realize that I shouldn't dwell on the bad shit that happens to me, because it really could be so much worse."

Logan catches the way Kendall talks about it, as if bad things have happened to him. His curiosity gets the better of him. "What bad stuff Kendall?"

The blond's expressions goes blank, as if he's remembering things that he's tried hard to forget. Without a change of face he scoots his chair back from the table and stands up, already walking away from Logan. "I changed my mind, I don't want to bother you anymore, sorry."

When he's gone Logan slowly opens back up his textbook and continues where he left off, as if Kendall never interrupted him in the first place.

* * *

That night rain falls in endless buckets that never seem to empty. The streets are flooded, the late summer air is frigid. Instead of occupying his coveted sanctuary on the roof, Logan lays in his bed, listening to Anonymous just like he has every night before. Drops of water pitter patter against the window pane, adding a soothing lull to the music drowning in Logan's ears. Because of Anonymous his spectrum of music has increased tremendously and he loves it. Anonymous gives Logan something to look forward to after a long day of school and Camille and just life in general. Logan just wants to know who the guy is, he swears he could be his - THUMP.

Despite knowing it'd be better to stay in bed rather than check out the sounds from the hall, Logan's curiosity tugs him out from under the warmth of the sheets and towards the door. Opening it just a slit he sees out into the hall where a figure is slumped helplessly against the wall. Logan has a feeling he knows who it is but something keeps him from venturing out into the hall and helping. He doesn't like Kendall when he's drunk. But before he has the chance to close the door he hears that voice. "Hel-llo?" It's deep and raspy, the word cracking as it escapes those pink lips that Logan can easily picture in his head.

All he can think is that he's missing Anonymous for this stupid blond kid that doesn't know what's good for him. Kendall speaks again, or croaks is more like it. "Are you still there?"

Logan wants to whisper out no and close the door. He wants to forget Kendall's there and just crawl back into bed. He wants to sleep.

He steps out of his room and into the hall, leaving his door open just a crack behind him. He crouches down to Kendall's level where he's up against the wall. "I'm still here, Kendall. Jesus what did you do to yourself?" The blond is drenched, his clothes completely soaked through with his hair matted to his forehead. There's a bruise smarting on his left cheek. Logan reaches out to touch it, Kendall's skin unbelievably soft and heated under the tips of his fingers despite the chill outside. Kendall shies away from him, Logan's touch hurts.

"Logan dooont. Do yanno which room 'smine?" His words slip by each other with ease as Logan gets to his feet, tugging Kendall up with him, the taller boy shivering in a sopping pair of vans.

To be honest Logan has no idea where Kendall lives, he just knows it was one of the six doors along the opposite wall of his own. "You really don't recognize your own room number?" Logan asks, looking at the blond for any sign of recognition.

"They all look d'same."

Cursing under his breath Logan wraps one of Kendall's arms around his shoulder while wrapping one of his around the blond's waist. He drags him the few feet to his own room, thankful he left it open a crack. Inside he holds Kendall up, fearful the blond may sway and fall flat on his face if Logan lets go. "How come you doon't hafa roommate?"

Logan giggles. "I don't like people, remember? Now stay still." The brunette starts on Kendall's hoodie as he lifts up the hem of it up, Kendall's shirt underneath riding up with it. "Raise your arms."

"What're you doin' to me?"

"You can't stay in these clothes you'll get sick, okay? Just listen and raise your arms up." Kendall complies, lifting his gangly arms up higher than Logan can reach. He reaches the blond's elbows and stops. "Just pull it off the rest of the way."

Kendall wrestles with the wet clothing, twisting his arms and neck in order to snake his way out of the clingy fabric. "You jus' wanna see me naked, don't you?" Kendall flexes what muscles he does have and Logan rolls his eyes to the ceiling. "I know, I'm hot shit." Kendall's words were beginning to sound much more like words instead of slurs. "People jus' can't get 'nuff of me."

"Sure, I bet that's what it is." Logan says, voice dripping with sarcasm. He reaches for the belt on Kendall's pants before cautiously backing away. "You can take your pants of on your own."

"Ya sure? I don' think I can." Kendall's long fingers rumble with the belt, haphazardly tugging it through the loops and dropping it on the floor. His thumb pops the button and undoes the zipper with a sigh. "Shoo shoo." Kendall mumbles towards Logan, waving him away so he can drop his pants to the floor. "Fuck my boxers are wet tooo. Hey Loges I'm going commando." Logan hears the rustling of the sheets and instantly feels a lump in his throat. He turns around, shielding his eyes with his hands before realizing Kendall's all covered up and snugly. He nuzzles his head into Logan's pillow and smiles a smile that counters the innocence of a child. "S'comfy. I can stay here?" Kendall yawns for a long time as Logan just gawks at the boy in his bed. Kendall snuggles deeper into the sheets as the warmth invades his body.

"You're naked. And you're in my bed! Kendall!"

"Shhhhhhhh. Loud noises." Kendall groans, sinking deeper under the covers. Before he knows it a pair of boxers are being tossed at his head.

"Just put those on? And yeah, you can stay," Logan mumbles softly as he settles down in the chair he recently put by the corner, draping a blanket over his body and flipping back to Anonymous' radio station.

"What're we listenin toooooooo?" Kendall yawns again, rolling his body over so that he's facing Logan, his green eyes slipping closed around the edges, already drowsy with sleep.

"Just some music."

Logan thinks Kendall's asleep. His eyes are closed and his breathing is steady, air slipping and sliding past his parted lips. "I like him." Kendall breathes and Logan can barely hear him, but he does.

Although he's sure Kendall won't hear him, Logan nods his head and whispers back, "So do I."

He continues to listen until the jockey signs off for the night. With a yawn Logan cuddles his somewhat smaller frame into the chair and leans his head on the armrest. He sleeps until morning.

* * *

Logan's up with the sun, refreshed with the few measly hours of sleep he was able to get. Kendall's still sleeping as he gets ready. Since it's a Saturday he knows there's no point in waking the blond up, but he does all the same, just to spite him.

"S'too early to be alive." Kendall groans when Logan strips him of his blankets. When he notices the blonds hand down his pants he looks away sheepishly.

"Really regretting what you did last night aren't you?" Logan stifles a chuckle and forces Kendall up into a sitting position by pulling on his arm.

"Dude what fucking time is it?"

"Seven am."

Kendall's grunts something along the lines of "what the hell is wrong with you," before falling back onto the bed with ease. "Normal people are still sleeping right now." Kendall's words are muffled by the pillow, and Logan can only guess it's full of the blond's drool. Lovely.

"Normal is overrated. If you want to go back to sleep get out of my room."

"But whyyyyyyy? If I go back to my dorm I'll wake up Dak. And no one ever wakes up Dak, unless you have a death wish or only want nine fingers or some shit."

"Must you always swear?"

Kendall lifts his head from the pillow and shoots Logan a glare. "Must you scrutinize everything I do because it's not something you like? The world isn't here to please you, just in case you didn't know."

"Whatever, I'm leaving. Get out." Logan opens up the door in exasperation as if expecting Kendall to jump up and leave. Instead the blond takes his sweet old time, pushing back the covers and stretching his long limbs before stepping out of the bed. He grabs the pile of his still damp clothes off the floor and gives Logan a cocky smirk. "I want my boxers back when you get the chance." Logan adds, just before Kendall reaches the door.

With a glance to Logan, Kendall shoves the clothes in his arms at Logan and stands there. Tucking his fingers underneath the band of the boxers, Kendall snaps it once against his waist before pushing them down his legs and letting them pile around his ankles. Logan stares wide eyed, because Kendall's standing there naked as if it's not a big deal that he's about to show his tallywacker to everyone on the second floor (not that anyone's awake yet but still). "At least my balls can breathe now. Plus those weren't my size anyway. Have a merry fucking day." Kendall grunts and takes his clothes back from Logan, leaving the brunette with the perfect view of pale legs and a round backside swaying back and forth as he struts away.


End file.
